


Arbutus

by Sugaredwings (CaffeinatedQueer)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Florist AU, Fluff, M/M, Pining, side daisuga, side oisuga
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-11
Updated: 2019-03-11
Packaged: 2019-11-15 08:43:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18070151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaffeinatedQueer/pseuds/Sugaredwings
Summary: Only you do I love-Working third shift at the hotel front desk isn’t the most exciting job, but Iwaizumi finds ways to spend the time. His new hobby doesn’t go unnoticed by the hotel’s florist, despite being misattributed.





	Arbutus

Part 1- Gerbera Daisy _innocence_

Two bouquets.

The hotel was supposed to receive two bouquets every Thursday. One for registration and one for concierge. They’d be nice and fresh for weekend, then through the week wilted blooms would be trimmed away. By the next Thursday they were left with some baby’s breath and foliage, ready to receive another two bouquets.

Iwaizumi Hajime’s night shifts had become mind numbingly dull ever since Sugawara changed to mornings. This new kid, Kageyama, wasn’t much for conversation. To pass the time, Iwaizumi started picking up cleaning tasks that housekeeping always seemed to miss. He dusted the keyboards. He spent an entire night on his knees scrubbing the baseboards of the lobby. The trouble started the night he decided to clear the counters, discard outdated take out menus, and scrub up years of adhesive residue.

The residue seemed to get stickier and darker the more he scrubbed at it. So Iwaizumi did the reasonable thing and scrubbed harder. He didn’t notice the counter shaking until the vase had already toppled, water and stems spilling across the concierge counter.

Oh God, the smell.

Flowers were supposed to smell _good_. The water— more like swamp slime, really— smelled like death. The bottom half of the flower stems were bloated and rotting. Iwaizumi had to choke back a gag as he mopped up the goo. He took the flowers to the bathroom to trim the stems and rinse away the decay.

It was a lesson learned. He made it a regular part of his night duties to change out the water. It made a big difference. Every night the water remained clear. The stems decayed slower. The smell stayed at bay. By Thursday, a good number of the blossoms were still thriving under his care. The results were noticeable. Vibrant carnations weren’t something Iwaizumi ever saw himself being proud of, but he was.

Sometimes Kageyama remembered to take care of them on Iwaizumi’s days off. Most of the time he forgot. Thankfully, Iwaizumi’s otherwise diligent care ensured that one or two nights of neglect didn’t cause much damage.

Then the bouquets started getting thicker. At first Iwaizumi thought it was because more flowers were being turned over to the next week because of his hard work keeping them alive. But no. They were definitely delivering thicker bouquets. It got to a point where he had trouble wrapping his hand around the stems to clean them; he had to use both. He caught a glance of himself in the bathroom mirror, clutching the bouquet like a bride, and had a good laugh.

Three bouquets.

Iwaizumi wasn’t quite sure what to do with the extra, but okay. Second shift had left it sitting on the reception desk, with two vases framing check-in as opposed to one dividing it into two lines. This was okay, Iwaizumi could accept this. It didn’t bother him, they never needed more than one check-in line at night anyway. It was just one more bouquet to take care of. It hardly made a dent in his tasks. He didn’t think much of it.

Four bouquets.

Second shift had placed two on each desk, but the concierge desk was too small and too cluttered to begin with.With a bit of creativity, Iwaizumi found a place for the new bouquet in the seating area. He still wasn’t entirely sure _why_ they had been ordering extra flowers. The calendar didn’t call for any special events that weekend. It was starting to become cumbersome, tending to each bouquet every night. Changing the water, washing and trimming the stems, and discarding the wilting blooms quickly took up the bulk of his shift. Not to mention, each bouquet was still thicker than his fist. If he rearranged them, he could easily make

Five bouquets.

Now it was just ridiculous. He ended up putting a vase between the toothpastes and snacks— a completely random place, honestly, but he was running out of options. He spent the entire night fussing with flowers. Iwaizumi never intended to be a florist. This was never a part of his job description. And yet here he was, spending several hours a night tending to flowers. By morning, he was proud to look back at the vibrant and fresh blooms as he handed off the keys to Sugawara.

“By the way, Suga, what’s up with all the flowers? It’s off season, why are we ordering up?”

The young man smiled and shrugged. “Our invoice hasn’t changed. The delivery guy says it’s because we’ve been taking such good care of them. He accidentally cut extra so we might as well have them.”

“Five weeks in a row? In increasing amounts? You’d think he would have learned how to cut less. What, is he some kind of dumbass?”

“I think he’s just really impressed with your care-taking skills,” Suga grinned, nudging Iwaizumi in the ribs, “I’d say you have an admirer. You should stay some morning and meet him. Or better yet! Take my place!”

“Take your—“

“I got offered a job downtown. A really nice assistant gig to some artist. I’m putting in my notice today.”

“Congratulations! Are they a big artist?”

“Big enough to need a personal assistant, and that’s all that matters to me”

“Fair enough.” It’d been over a month since he’d last gotten to work with Suga, but the news still dealt a blow. The other man’s humor and wide smiles were always his final pick-me-up of the day. Iwaizumi was going to miss him. Heaven help whatever poor sap took his place. No one could put up with 7AM I-spent-eight-hours-on-my-feet Iwaizumi like Suga did. Nobody envied Kageyama when he got the job.

Two bouquets and a broken vase.

Iwaizumi cringed when he saw the second bouquet resting in a water pitcher from the café. Second shift had tried to dress it up by tying a cloth napkin around it. A good portion of his night was spent scouting storage closets for a more acceptable vessel. Something that at least looked vase-like and tall enough to hold the arrangement upright. The real trick was finding something with a mouth wide enough for the thick bouquet but not so wide that the arrangement fell apart. He ended up borrowing a couple of decanters and tall glasses from the bar, dividing the bouquet and tucking little bundles of flowers around the lobby.

Two… bouquets?

Iwaizumi presumed this is how big the bouquets used to be before they became super-sized. They were considerably less luxurious, but acceptable. It made cleaning much much easier. At least the florist had replaced the broken vase, so he only had two vessels to clean. Scrubbing the collection of glassware for a week had been a special hell.

One bouquet, split into two vases.

There was no doubt about it. The lazy, dumbass florist thought he could get away with giving them just one bouquet if he split it into two vases.

“He’s a grumpy man,” Kageyama had _scowled_ when Iwaizumi confronted him about it. “He just slams down the flowers, shoves the invoice at me to sign, and leaves without saying anything. I’m pretty sure he would punch me if I questioned him. Why don’t you stick around on Thursday and talk to him yourself.”

Gerbera daisies.

It was the Gerbera daisies that finally tipped Iwaizumi over the edge. With their hollow stems, he couldn’t keep them fresh for more than two days. The arrangements were barren by Sunday. Not to mention, the stems got especially slimy as they rotted. Every time Iwaizumi attempted to rinse the decay from the stems, a giant glob of goo would shoot from the center, coating the sink in fetid slime.

Wednesday night he drank more coffee than usual. By 7am Thursday he was ready to fight this brute who’d been bullying his co-worker. “You have an admirer,” Suga had said. Yeah right. He had a nemesis more like.

By 8am his adrenaline and caffeine buzz was fading fast.

9am he had officially crashed. Grabbing a handful of linens after slipping some cash to the head of housekeeping, Iwaizumi set up to take a nap in the storage room.

He awoke to Kageyama’s rapid knocking. He cracked the door open, harshly whispering “he’s here!”

Iwaizumi checked his watch. It was a little past noon. “Wasn’t he supposed to be here at ten?”

Kageyama shrugged as he let Iwaizumi out of the closet. “He gets here when he gets here has been my experience so far.”

“Fuck—“ Iwaizumi winced as he straightened his back with a crack. His uniform was ten kinds of rumpled. He could feel drool caked to the side of his face. There was no time to freshen up before he faced his new nemesis for the first time. Hell of an impression to make.

“Were you two fucking in there?”  
  
Both employees jumped as a man popped his head around the corner. Despite his sour expression, Iwaizumi couldn’t help but notice how painfully _attractive_ he was: all supple skin, warm honey eyes, and soft brown hair.

Self-conscious, Iwaizumi attempted to straighten his uniform. “No, sir. Sorry, I was looking for something. Checking in?”

“That’s him!” Kageyama was elbowing his side for all the good it did. Iwaizumi was still trying to clear the sleep from his head. This was too much happening all at once.

“Looking for something in a closet that’s conveniently lined with bedsheets?” The man’s annoyance turned teasing as he ran his eyes down Iwaizumi’s form and across the sheets peeking out of the closet. “I’m here to deliver the flowers. If you’ll just sign this I’ll promise not to tell anyone about your little sex closet.”

“It’s not a— never mind. Let’s see these flowers.” Iwaizumi wasn’t about to be blindsided by this guy, no matter how unpleasantly beautiful he was.

He followed him back to the reception desk where two sad little arrangements sat in mason jars.

“These are just babies breath, foliage, and like,” Iwaizumi made it a point to tap the heads of the flowers, “two carnations. And we still have fillers from last week left. They’re the only things that lasted since _someone_ decided to give us Gerbera daisies.”

The florist squinted back at him. “I don’t like you, you’re mean. And King-chan over there’s a brat. Where’s Koushi?”

“Sugawara’s found employment elsewhere, so you’ll have to learn to work with us,” Iwaizumi crossed his arms, peering down his nose at the other man.

The florist mirrored his stance, “and who are you, huh? His friend?”

“I’m the guy who takes care of the flowers every night and has spent the past week with Gerbera daisy gunk under my nails no matter how hard I scrub. And yes, I guess I would consider Suga my friend.”

“Wait— _you’re_ the one that’s been tending the flowers?” The florist looked halfway between stunned and amused. “I thought Koushi— I never would have pictured a big brute like you to be the sensitive type.”

Iwaizumi shrugged, “they smell bad when they start rotting, so I worked it into my routine. Which became a hell of a lot harder when _someone_ started giving us ridiculous amounts of flowers.”

“Sorry, I thought Koushi… I noticed that someone had started taking care of the flowers at around the same time I met Koushi. I just assumed he was the one keeping up with them, that he was passionate about them, so I might have given him a little extra. Do you know if he… likes flowers?”

“Do you mean to say ‘likes florists?’”

“Don’t mock me!”

“He might be interested. He’s single, at least,” Iwaizumi couldn’t keep the teasing tone from his voice. “How about we strike a deal? You give me real flowers and I’ll set you up on a date with Suga.”

“Deal!”

“I can’t promise more than one date—“

“Pshh. I’m _the_ Oikawa Tooru. It only takes one date for someone to fall for me.”

“Okay,” Iwaizumi shrugged, “show me the flowers and I’ll text Suga right now.”

Oikawa motioned for him to follow, so he did. The florist’s van was parked just outside in the valet loop, the valet drivers obviously annoyed at its prolonged presence.

“Here,” Oikawa threw open the back of the van and grabbed a five gallon bucket by the handle. Delphinium and Peruvian lily stems bobbed in the water. “You can have this whole bucket. Now text him.”

Iwaizumi nodded in approval, whipping out his phone and sending out a quick text. “Done.”

“What did you write, let me read it.”

Rolling his eyes, he held out his phone for inspection.

“‘Hey Suga, florist dude wants to go on a date with you.’ Really? I have a name. I _told you_ my name.”

“Yeah, but what if he doesn’t remember it?”

Oikawa gasped dramatically, “he would never forget me. We bonded!”

“And yet you never got his number,” Iwaizumi mocked, taking the bucket from Oikawa’s grasp. He lifted it to carry against his shoulder, blue and purple blossoms tickling his ear.

The florist sputtered, face growing red. He did a quick pat down of his pockets before fishing out a business card and tucking it into Iwaizumi’s breast pocket. “There. Now you can tell me what he says.” The normally confident man stared up at him in silence for an awkward moment. “Thank you for your services…”

“Iwaizumi.”

“Iwa-chan,” Oikawa stepped back, eyes still locked on his face. “I can see it now.”

“See what?”

“Take good care of those flowers, Iwa-chan! I’m trusting you with my babies!” Just like that he was running off, slamming the doors of the van, and tearing out of the valet loop.

Iwaizumi shrugged, adjusted his grip on the bucket, and turned back inside. He laughed a little when he noticed the invoice still on the desk, unsigned. Hopefully Oikawa wouldn’t get in too much trouble without it. He made note to keep it safe until next week.

“You did it,” Kageyama stared at him in awe.

“The guy was weird.”

-

“The guy was _gorgeous_ , Daichi!” Oikawa flopped dramatically across the bed of his long-suffering roommate. “It was totally unfair. He was this big, rude brute until he was holding flowers. Then suddenly— BAM! He like like some beautiful, tan, muscular GOD.”

“Over the silver-haired guy already?” Daichi didn’t even bother looking up from his laptop. It seemed like every month Oikawa stormed in here, waxing poetic over a new ‘soulmate.’

“Nonononono, Koushi is still ‘the one’ for me. He’s goddamn _ethereal_. Not to mention funny. And nice. The complete opposite of Iwa-chan. Just you wait— when Iwa-chan gets me this date I’ll bring him by the café. Then you can see my future bride for yourself.”

“Mmhmm.”

“Are you listening to me, Daichi?!”

“Oh definitely.”

“Just because you haven’t found love in years doesn’t mean you get to bully me. You just don’t understand what it’s like.”

“I’m sorry Oikawa, but I have to finish this paper with enough time to sleep before work tomorrow.”

“Boring Daichi,” he scowled, but not for long. The tell-tale chirp of his cell phone from the common room had Oikawa dashing out of the room faster than Daichi could ever wish for.

—

Part 2- Pink Larkspur _fickleness_

Suga looked like he had just walked out of a dream. Oikawa couldn’t stop grinning. “He’s a very punctual person, so don’t you dare be late,” Iwaizumi had warned him. Oikawa might have jumped the gun and gotten there a good thirty minutes early, hitching a ride with Daichi on his way into work. He’d secured the best table before waiting by the door for Suga’s arrival— the image of The Perfect Gentleman.

He’d only ever seen Suga in his stiff hotel uniform— not that he was complaining, the piping on the jacket did wonders for the man’s waist— but casual Sugawara was a sight to behold. Soft cotton t-shirt with dark jeans. Not trying too hard, but definitely cleaned up. His hair looked soft, slightly roughed, as opposed to the carefully combed style he wore at work. His cowlick still flew stubbornly above his head.

Oikawa definitely could _not_ mess this up. Never in his life had he met anyone better suited for himself. He couldn’t wait for Daichi to see him. He would have to agree then he could stop teasing Oikawa for being lovesick.

“Hi! Sorry to keep you waiting,” Suga grinned, the tiny beauty mark on his cheek accenting his eyes. Oikawa made a note to set aside some extra tiger lilies for Iwaizumi. Lilies spoke of devotion and the freckles across the tiger lily petals would be perfect for Suga. They’d make a great display of gratitude.

“I just got here myself,” he lied with a smile, holding the door for his date. “I got us a table. I have an in, so I made sure we got the best one.”

“Are you trying to impress me by knowing a barista?” Suga teased as he followed him to the table, sitting down with less grace than expected. Oikawa flinched for the tile floor against the feet of the chair. “Everyone our age knows a barista if they aren’t already one themselves.”

“Yeah, maybe at a big chain. But this is a boutique little place with manual grinders and latte artists.”

“Hmmmm,” Suga was still smiling at him, amused. “Does that line ever work?”

Oikawa had to laugh. Suga made it easy to drop his date persona, almost forced him to. “It does with girls. I think most people like the romance of coffee shops. Why, are you not a sucker for café love stories?”

“I think those usually work with a patron falling in love with a barista. Did you bring me here to set me up with your ‘in’?”

“Pshh, you wouldn’t like him. He’s boring. He has no humor, no sense of adventure. He just sits at home all day doing homework until its time to go to bed at a decent hour or go to work.” Oikawa glanced up at Daichi, their eyes meeting as if on cue. Oikawa stuck his tongue out at his curious roommate, only to be met with a smile and a subtle middle finger.

Suga was laughing. That was good. They were both laughing. Oikawa felt a weight lift from his shoulders as he determined that this was definitely a Good Date. They talked about Suga’s new job with the artist, the outrageous demands and weird perks that come with working closely to someone with a lot of influence. Oikawa told him a bit more about the flower shop and a big wedding they were preparing for the next week.

“You know, I always thought you were sweet on Iwaizumi and that’s why you kept bringing so many flowers.”

“I had never seen the guy until he jumped out of a closet and ambushed me like some great brute. What gave you that idea?” He suppressed the mental image of delicate lilies against Iwaizumi’s strong jaw, focusing on the delicate point of Suga’s chin.

“Well, you said that the flowers were well cared for and that made you happy. And, well, he’s the one that cared for them. I assumed it was some blind pining. I tried to get him to take over mornings for me so you could meet him, but he bitched about not being a morning person.”

“Any grumpy old man can change vase water. I don’t know how you two could be friends, he’s not fun at all.”

“Iwaizumi’s plenty of fun!” Suga defended. “We play volleyball on Tuesdays with the community team. He’s our best wing spiker.”

“Really?” Oikawa took a long sip of his iced coffee.

“Yeah! He has a good sense of humor, too, if you can catch it. It’s quiet and a little dry.”

“Sounds like Daichi,” Oikawa grumbled.

“You called?” The barista loomed over their table, apron folded over his arm.

“Ah! You must be the terribly boring barista,” Suga stood to shake his hand. “Is it true that you go to bed at a reasonable hour every single night?”

Daichi glanced at Oikawa before chuckling, “I sure as hell try, if someone isn’t being an annoying little brat.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, this one hasn’t stopped crying over you for the past month. Good to know you live up to his description. I’m Sawamura Daichi, pleased to finally meet the legendary Koushi.”

“Hah, I’m sure the pleasure is mine. Did you do the fern on my latte?”

“Oh that? Yeah. Ferns are pretty easy. I’ll do something better next time.”

“I look forward to it.”

Oikawa silently thanked Daichi for confirming a second date. “Yeah, Daichi does latte competitions and stuff. His life is consumed by work.”

“And school,” Daichi corrected.

“And school.”

“And sleep,” Suga added, still standing by the table. He gave Oikawa a mischievous look. “Did you know that Iwaizumi’s single?”

“Oh really?” Oikawa attempted to make his surprise sound fake, “I would’ve thought tall, dark, and handsome would have a proper girlfriend. You know, the kind parents love.”

“Tall, dark, and handsome: yes. Girlfriend: no,” he grabbed his jacket from the back of his chair with a wink, “just something to keep in mind. I have to get to work. Daichi, can I trust you to walk Oikawa home?”

“I’ll make sure he doesn’t get groped on the train, no worries.”

“Thank you for the lovely date, Oikawa. Let me know when you’re free next week.”

Oikawa at least had the decency to wait for the door to close before demanding a high-five from his roommate. “See? Didn’t I tell you? He’s perfect. Just as gorgeous as me and at least three fourths as funny.”

“He’s definitely,” Daichi cleared his throat as he helped clear the table, “he’s definitely something.”

“Why? What’s wrong?” Oikawa eyed his roommate with suspicion.

“It’s nothing. I’m sure he’s fine. I just keep hoping you’ll go for someone a little more… grounded, I guess.”

“Do you have a crush on me, Daichi-kun?”

“Let me be more specific: someone grounded who’s willing to put up with your antics. But I guess that’s asking a lot of one person. Come on, let’s go home.”

-

There were an anxious two days between the date and volleyball practice. Iwaizumi hadn’t heard from either Suga or Oikawa and he was too scared to ask. Today was the day he found out Suga’s reaction. From there he’d have an idea of what to expect for Thursday’s delivery.

He might have taken some shortcuts on his afternoon jog, arriving at the gym a half hour early. Their captain was just unlocking the gym doors, Sugawara by his side with a rolling water cooler and a bag of oranges.

“Here, Suga, let me take those,” Iwaizumi lifted the oranges from Suga’s grasp, making both men jump.

“Iwaizumi! You’re early!” The captain almost laughed. “And you look awake for once!”

“Ignore Tanaka,” Suga smiled up at Iwaizumi while pushing the captain through the doors, “we’re glad you’re here. Help us put up the net?”

“Of course.”

The other clubs that rented the gym through the week had a horrible habit of moving their equipment. Every Tuesday became a scavenger hunt for their net, ball basket, scoreboard, and pinnies. Suga had found the basket, but some “punk-ass kids” (Tanaka’s words, but Iwaizumi couldn’t disagree) had scattered half of the balls across the closet. They’d made a game of it, Iwaizumi tossing balls over his shoulder and Suga trying to catch them in the giant rolling basket.

“So how’d the date go?” Iwaizumi was careful to keep his tone light, fearless.

“It was nice! We went to this cute little café downtown. His roommate is a barista there. He does latte art and everything. Best coffee I’ve ever had.”

“Yeah?”

“You should meet him— Daichi, that is, the roommate? He’s nice. He has that tall, broad, and charming thing going on.”

“And Oikawa?”

Suga threw a ball back at him, hitting Iwaizumi square in the shoulder to get his attention. He observed him with a knowing smile, almost a smirk at Iwaizumi’s nervous jump. “We should plan a double date.”

“With who?”

“With you and Daichi of course!” Suga laughed, helping to gather the last of the balls. “I think you’ll like him.”

Iwaizumi hesitated before giving an unsure nod. He tried to jump out of the way, having spent enough time with Suga to know what was coming. Unfortunately, Suga had spent enough time with him to know his reaction. The smaller man still managed to land a celebratory punch to Iwaizumi’s side.

-

Six o’clock Thursday morning. Only an hour left of Iwaizumi’s shift. He flicked a fallen petal off the counter with a yawn. Tomorrow he’d have fresh not-shedding bouquets to welcome him into work. He just had to hope the date went as well from Oikawa’s viewpoint.

“Hello! Iwachan! Good morning!”

The sudden sunny greeting startled him to his feet, chair falling down behind him.

“Don’t tell me you were sleeping on the job,” Oikawa grinned at him. Iwaizumi took a few more minutes to clear his vision, to be sure he was really seeing who he thought he saw. Yep. That charming jackass grin and brown eyes dancing with mischief, it was definitely him. He hugged a bucket to his chest, filled with brightly colored open faced flowers.

“Suga said the date went well.”

“It did! Thank you Iwachan!” And yet he hefted the bucket of flowers— of those dreaded flowers— onto Iwaizumi’s desk.

“Then why did you bring Gerbera Daisies? We had an agreement and I thought I had made it abundantly clear that banning daisies was a part of it.”

“Listen here, mister,” Oikawa scolded him, still smiling, with a finger pressed against Iwaizumi’s chest, “Gerbera Daisies are a _classic_ cut flower. _You_ just suck at taking care of them. What, you think you can just rinse and water all flowers equally?”

“So you’re telling me that you’re going to be giving me flowers that are more difficult to care for. You know I’m not a florist, right? That’s not my job title. It isn’t in my job description. At all. I just do it because—“

“Because you care. Admit it,” the florist dared him. “And you know, some flowers are worth a little extra effort. Treat them right and they’ll bloom just for you. You’re the kind of man who takes pride in a job well done, I can tell.”

Iwaizumi couldn’t help but roll his eyes. “Okay, so these daisies.”

Oikawa’s face lit up like a spring day that suddenly decided not to rain. He hefted a bottle of bleach and a pair of shears onto the counter. Iwaizumi helped him carry the supplies and both vases into the bathroom.

Years down the road, Oikawa would tease him about spending their first date huddled together in the men’s bathroom. Iwaizumi tried to deny the accusation, but his rejections were futile.  
_  
“If it wasn’t a date, why’d you keep sneaking glances at me through the mirror? Ha! You thought I wouldn’t notice, didn’t you. Do you really think I can avoid looking in the mirror? I mean, look at me.”_

__

_“If you were only looking at yourself, you wouldn’t have noticed me.”_

__

_“It’s not my fault you were all handsome and dashing in your youth. What happened?”_  
  
It wasn’t like Iwaizumi could have helped himself. The young man next to him turned from self-centered asshole to excited child when he turned his focus to the stems before him. His fingers guided the shears with a kind of grace Iwaizumi didn’t know was possible. He watched how his thin wrist bent to get just the right angle, the strength it took for him to snip through thick stems like butter. He couldn’t help but notice the callouses across Oikawa’s fingertips.

“Does flower tending really tax your fingers to callous like that? Don’t you wear gloves?”

“Iwachan!” Oikawa thwacked his shoulder in faux reproach. “Never ask a lady about her callouses! These are from volleyball, anyway.”

“You’re a setter.”

“Yes! Well… I was.”

“You’re a wing spiker, right?” “Did you know Suga’s a setter too?”

“No, is he really?” “Yeah, I’m pretty good when I’m not dead on my feet from work.”

“Iwachan, let me talk!” But Oikawa was laughing.

“You’d talk all day if I let you!” But Iwaizumi couldn’t suppress a smile.

“Shut up and pass me the bleach. Let me pour you a glass.”

“A toast to you, shittykawa.” Iwaizumi watched carefully as Oikawa measured bleach into the vase, diluting it with water before placing the flowers.

“Do you like them better with a directional focus or all-round?” The florist snuck a glance at Iwaizumi through the mirror, keeping his face to his arraignment. “They’re on the counter, right? So I’d suggest something directional.”

With his head bent over the vase, the pale length of Oikawa’s neck lay exposed; wisps of soft hair curled around his ears. Not that Iwaizumi noticed or anything. “What do you mean?”

“Well, I can arrange them so that they’re decent all the way around. That way you can look at it from any direction and it looks nice. _Or_ I can make a backing out of the foliage aaaaand…. There!” He turned to grin at Iwaizumi. Gerbera daisies spilled forth from a wide spray of foliage and larkspur.

“Oh! That looks nice.”

“You just have to promise me you’ll upkeep it. Every other day— at least!— you’re going to take out the stems, trim them, change the water, treat it, and then rearrange them like this.”

“Exactly like this?” Iwaizumi smirked.

“Use your imagination for once, Iwachan! I’m trusting you. Here, you do the other one. Show me what you can do.”

Iwaizumi could feel Oikawa’s eyes on him as he started clipping stems for the second bouquet. The shears felt too small in his hand, his fingers too clumsy. The gaze judging his every move unnerved him. He needed to redirect Oikawa’s attention before he snipped off his own fingertip.

“Suga suggested we should go on a date.”

“A what?!” Oikawa’s squawk made Iwaizumi flinch dangerously close to an Emergency Room visit. “Why would he say that, I thought he said he liked our date—“

“A double date!” Iwaizumi clarified, raising his voice to drown out Oikawa’s rapid fire defenses. “You and him, your roommate and I.”

“Oh,” he relaxed with a laugh. Iwaizumi felt himself relax as well. “You want me to set you up with dear Daichi-kun? I can do that.”

He seemed to think about it some more, giving Iwaizumi a chance to focus on the task at hand without anxiety. He could only hope he poured the right amount of bleach. He wished Oikawa had given him some sort of measurement.

“I think you’ll like him, Iwachan. Daichi’s a golden boy. Hard working, good grades, proper sleep schedule, and he can cook. Your mom’ll like him, too. You can be boring old men together.”

Iwaizumi couldn’t help but laugh, “that sounds more like Suga’s type— ow! Hey! I’m holding shears, don’t kick me!”

“If you keep being rude, I won’t let you come to our double date.”

“Then it’ll just be the three of you. You’ll really let yourself be a third wheel just to spite me?”

“Don’t doubt me, Iwachan. Cut these three a little shorter so they’ll be more tiered. There you go.”

It was well past seven when the two stumbled out of the bathroom, arms full of flowers and lungs full of laughter.

They were met by Kageyama’s wide-eyed stare. “Were you two fucking in there?”

Iwaizumi nearly jumped out of his skin, struggling to keep hold of his vase. Oikawa just laughed, patting Kageyama’s shoulder with his free hand.

“Nothing you haven’t done before, King-chan. I won’t tell if you don’t.”

“Oikawa! Here, Kageyama, the keys. I swear, he was just showing me how to take care of daisies.”

“Is that what they called it back in your day?”

“Oikawa! Don’t listen to him.” Yet he couldn’t meet his co-worker’s gaze. Iwaizumi hurried to clock out and run out the door. Oikawa gave him an impish smile as he ran past the florist van on his way out. Iwaizumi ignored him.

-

Turns out, coordinating four adult’s schedules was next to impossible. Iwaizumi worked nights, so he was pretty easy to plan around, but everyone else seemed to have a random hodge-podge of obligations. Oikawa had deliveries in the morning and events on weekends. Suga had to be at his boss’s beck and call. Daichi had school most mornings then work in the evenings.

Despite days of back and forths, Suga seemed to be in high spirits when Iwaizumi showed up for practice.

“What are you doing after? You have a few hours before work, right?”

“I don’t go in until eleven, so I have an hour or two to burn. Why, what’s up?” Iwaizumi tucked away the last of the net, hopefully securing it enough to prevent tampering through the week.

“We should grab coffee,” Suga’s voice sounded too forced, too tight. Iwaizumi eyed him suspiciously. “The place Oikawa took me to is just down the street. You need caffeine before work, right?”

“You’re really trying to set me up with this Daichi guy, aren’t you.”

“N-no. I just think you should meet him. Plus, it’s good coffee, Iwaizumi.”

“Fine,” he couldn’t _not_ smile at Suga’s enthusiasm.

The walk was as pleasant as a bitter winter night could be. The wind bit through their jackets, clinging to the sweat remaining on their skin. By the time they reached the café, their laughter had turned to shivering.

Iwaizumi went to take a seat, halted by Suga’s hand on his shoulder.

“Hold up a minute. We have to wait to be seated.”

“Oh, I didn’t realize we were having coffee with the bourgeoisie.”

Suga’s resulting laugh caught the attention of a tall and serious barista. Iwaizumi caught him smiling.

“Is that the guy?”

Suga caught his breath, following Iwaizumi’s gaze. He locked eyes with Daichi. They smiled. Iwaizumi didn’t have time to think much of it before the hostess arrived to seat them.

“Suga-kun,” she smiled a bit too wide for Iwaizumi’s comfort, cheeks glowing pink, “you brought a friend with you!”

“Good evening, Yacchan!” Suga’s familiarity was just as disconcerting. “This is my teammate, Iwaizumi.”

“Hello,” he attempted a relaxed smile for her sake. She jumped under his attention.

“Hello, Iwaizumi-san. Um. I’ll let you look at the menu!” She ran off quicker than what was really necessary. Suga kicked him under the table, barely stifling a laugh.

“You scared her!”

“How often do you come here?” Iwaizumi retorted with an accusatory look.

“I told you, it’s the best coffee I’ve ever had.”

“Mhmm… so… have you been talking to Oikawa at all?”

“Yeah! We’ve been trying to plan that group date, remember?”

“But outside of that? Give me your phone.”

“Iwa—“

“Your phone.”

Suga sighed, shifting to pull the device from his pocket, “fine.”

Iwaizumi swiped in the passcode, opening Suga’s messages.

“I’m gonna change my passcode.”

“You’d never.” He scrolled through them. Nothing too incriminating. Tanaka made the top of the list with a few messages about tonight’s practice. Iwaizumi saw his own messages. Their group message. He had to scroll a decent amount to find Oikawa’s messages— with nothing new in the past week. Iwaizumi gave Suga a questioning glance when he notice Daichi’s name tucked in with yesterday’s messages.

Don’t forget to eat before work>

D<This essay is kicking my ass

D<I see you’re online. Get to bed

My boss is being an ass>

It was as so casual. Little complaints. Little reminders. Anecdotes. Iwaizumi smiled and handed the phone back. “You know, if you don’t like him you don’t have to go on dates with him.”

“Oh no, that’s not it,” Suga grinned, “Oikawa’s a lot of fun. I enjoyed our date. I just… don’t have anything to say. He’s easier to talk to in person.”

Iwaizumi nodded, not wanting to meddle. Suga was a grown man, he could make these decisions for himself. He let the topic drop.

-

“Iwachaaaaan! Got you a present!”

“Is it really a present if the company is paying for it?” It’s six in the morning on a Thursday. Iwaizumi just spent seven hours staring at walls and not making conversation with his coworkers. Oikawa’s smiling face… was surprisingly invigorating. He carried a bucket in each hand, flowers swinging at his sides. “Isn’t it a little early for you to be… here? And so chipper?”

“My roommate’s a morning person and a barista. I wake up to plenty of espresso. And I wanted to catch you before you left! Look, I brought echinacea!” He held a bucket up for Iwaizumi to inspect. Purple flowers with orange textured centers spun with the movement. Iwaizumi saw them out of the corner of his eye as he watched Oikawa’s bicep flex with the effort.

“Echinacea.”

“Yeah, I thought you’d like them.”

Iwaizumi took the offered bucket. His eyes fell from Oikawa just in time to miss the man raise a brow at the strained seams of Iwaizumi’s uniform. The shoulders were tailored for proper doormen, not wing spikers lifting five gallon buckets.

“Why, do they have some sort of meaning? Like ‘let me bang your friend’ or something like that?”

“Iwachan! Don’t be vulgar.” Oikawa swung the other bucket onto the counter. “They don’t really have a meaning. But they’re neat. Look, see how the centers are all bright and spikey?”

Iwaizumi passed a finger over the spines joining the long, delicate petals. They caught the ridges of his finger print. Overall, they felt uncomfortable to work with.

“Well, once the flower has wilted and the petals have fallen off, you can still use the stem and center for a splash of color in your foliage. So they’ll last you all week at least.”

“That’s… that’s pretty cool, I’ll admit. A flower that’s still beautiful even after it’s wilted— just in a different way.”

Oikawa nodded as he started placing the stems into one of the vases. “If I were to give it a meaning I’d say it stands for new beginnings and second chances.”

They spent the last hour of Iwaizumi’s shift sitting side-by-side at the reception desk, each working on a vase. They spent more time reaching over each other, critiquing and sabotaging the other’s arrangement, than they did actually arranging. Kageyama must’ve stood over them for a solid three minutes before they stopped laughing long enough to notice him.

“Guess it’s time to go,” Oikawa started gathering stem clippings, dumping them in the trash.

Iwaizumi nodded, standing to place the vases on the counters. “Alright, let’s go.”

Oikawa packed up his truck while Iwaizumi clocked out and changed out of his uniform. He returned to the front door to meet the doorman on his way out.

“So can I expect this to be the normal Thursday morning?”

Oikawa stammered for a moment, taking in the sight of Iwaizumi in a t-shirt. Short sleeves and soft fabrics did wonders for toned arms. Much better than stiff long sleeved uniforms. “Really, Iwachan? You expect me to get up bright and early just to see you? I’m flattered, but I’m already seeing someone.” It’s just a t-shirt. Oikawa Tooru wasn’t going to swoon over a bit of cotton.

“Don’t be a dick,” Iwaizumi bumped shoulders with a smirk.

Oikawa turned to walk with him to the parking garage. “It’s frugal on my part. If I get your training out of the way here while someone else is paying you, then when you inevitably decide to come work for me I won’t have to waste labor hours in training.”

The morning light promised a clear day: soft blue skies with a few wispy clouds and just enough breeze to push Oikawa’s bangs from his face. Iwaizumi’s eyes followed the slope of his nose. The faintest freckles dusted his cheeks— _was he wearing makeup_ — did Oikawa really wake up early enough to apply makeup _and_ deliver to Iwaizumi by six?

“You really expect me to leave my stable, easy, decent paying job in order to come work for you?”

“Of course! You don’t want to do this forever, do you? Don’t you want something more fulfilling?”

“Affording rent is fulfilling enough for me.”

“Oh come on,” Oikawa linked their arms. Iwaizumi was all too aware of their hips bumping together with each step. “I’m no slave driver. You’d make decent money. With your handsome mug and my pretty face, we’d appeal to everyone! We’d make a major profit.”

“I’m not a florist.”

“Just think about it.”

“This is me,” Iwaizumi pointed his key at his slightly battered old Honda.

“Iwachan!” Oikawa clung to him in mock horror. If his hands took the opportunity to feel those biceps for himself, that was his own business. “You are _not_ allowed to take my beloved roommate on a date in this trash heap. Even Daichi deserves better.”

“I wouldn’t want to date a snob anyway. My car’s fine.”

“Here,” Oikawa shoved his phone into Iwaizumi’s hand, contacts open, “put in your address. We’ll pick you up. Heaven forbid we finally get a date planned and _your_ shitty car breaks down on the way.”

Iwaizumi rolled his eyes, struggling to hold the phone with Oikawa still latched to his arm. He refused to let go. First order of business was changing “Iwachan ಠ_ಠ” to “Iwaizumi Hajime” before he added his home address to the contact.

“If you need to know what window to peep through, it’s the third from the left on the east side.”

“Are you gonna keep the blinds open for me?” Oikawa teased with a pinch to the shoulder before reluctantly releasing his grip.

“For you?! I’ll leave them open for this cute roommate of yours. Need a ride back to your truck?”

Oikawa grimaced at the ripped and stained cloth seats of the Honda. “I’ll walk.”

An awkward silence passed— neither quite ready to leave despite the obvious cue having arrived.

“You should join us for volleyball on Tuesdays. You’d get to hang out with Suga.”

Oikawa’s face lit up as he took a step back, letting Iwaizumi open his car door. “Text me the details.”

“Will do.” He felt guilty for how hard he had to slam his car door shut, making Oikawa jump. He hated the way his heart dropped to his feet as he drove off, watching Oikawa turn to walk back to the elevator. He fought the urge to turn back. It was a stupid urge. It made no sense. He ignored it.

He stopped at the exit to the garage. If he turned right he could probably make it to the valet loop first and see Oikawa off. He turned left.

He stopped at the end of the driveway. He could still turn around. Once the light turned green, he was doomed to go home. The light turned. He pulled out onto the main road. His stomach dropped in disappointment. He felt a little sick.

This wasn’t the the time for grand romantic gestures. This wasn’t the person. It wasn’t fair for Iwaizumi to take out his loneliness on some florist. He probably gets romantic gestures all the time: he’s pretty and it’s part of the job. Iwaizumi wasn’t special; he wasn’t about to make a fool of himself.

“He woke up early to see me. He put on makeup.”

“It didn’t have to be for me. An investment in his business, like he said. And maybe if he starts his day earlier he’ll finish earlier. Maybe this just works better for him.”

“He hung out. For an _hour_. Two weeks in a row.”

“He was being a know-it-all brat, maybe its just fun for him. Doesn’t have anything to do with me. Or maybe he just thinks I’m a great friend. He deserves friends. I don’t want to be another creep in his life looking to be something more. I’m sure he has plenty of those. He’d be so disappointed.”

Iwaizumi argued with himself the whole way home, and then some as he went to bed. It wasn’t until he was drifting off to sleep in the afternoon sun that he let his mind go where it really wanted.

_he looked good on my arm._

—

Part 3– Enchinacea _second chances?_

  
O< I moved my Monday appointments so that I can have a free day. That’s your day off, right Iwachan?

Yes, I have off every Monday. >

S< Mondays are usually busy for me. I have to catch up on the emails that piled up over the weekend. But I can ask if I can come in on Sunday and knock them out early.

D< I actually have off that day

O< I know, I called your boss three weeks ago to request it off

D< Dammit Oikawa, I only get one request a month. I wanted to go to a presentation next week

O< ╰(*´︶`*)╯♡

Monday afternoon found Iwaizumi’s bed covered in discarded t-shirts. Suga eyes darted between the pile and the closet. “Is this really all you have?”

“What’s wrong with a t-shirt and jeans? It’s what you’re wearing.”

“Iwaizumi! It’s a first date, you can’t wear the same nasty t-shirts that you wear to volleyball. See how my t-shirt doesn’t have holes, sweat stains, or logos?”

“I have a button up in there somewhere.”

“That you wore for a job interview three years ago. It’s too small and it’s ugly.”

“I don’t waste money on clothes,” he shrugged. Work, sleep, with the occasional volleyball practice: there wasn’t a need for anything but ratty t-shirts and his work uniform.

“Here,” Suga started pulling off his own shirt. “Your first impression is important.”

“Suga—!” Iwaizumi tried to protest as the t-shirt was thrown at his face.

“Don’t worry,” he grinned, pulling on one of Iwaizumi’s worn t-shirts. On his smaller frame, the collar fell to the side, artfully displaying a delicate shoulder. “This is a look.”

Iwaizumi couldn’t argue. He pulled Suga’s shirt over his own head, shifting uncomfortably as the fabric hugged his arms and chest. “It’s too small.”

With a low whistle, Suga nodded. “Trust me, that’s not a bad thing.”

“Shut up,” the wing spiker laughed.

Suga jumped as his phone vibrated in his pocket. “They’re here.”

A well maintained, low profile Toyota idled in front of their complex. Oikawa stood outside the passenger door, grinning at the two of them. Iwaizumi grinned back— until Oikawa hugged Suga. He looked over to where the driver was waving from the car. Daichi. That’s right, he’s on a date with Daichi. Oikawa’s interested in Suga. Suga’s interested in Oikawa. Iwaizumi’s on a date with Daichi.

He took advantage of the other two’s distraction to slide into the front seat, next to his date, as it should be. Daichi smiled back at him, hand extended. Iwaizumi shook it.

“Nice to meet you properly, Iwaizumi-san.”

“I’ve heard a lot about you. Thank you for taking care of Suga.”

He was a handsome man, especially with a tinge of pink spread across the bridge of his nose. Short cropped hair, gentle eyes, and a kind smile: Daichi could easily play the part of a fairytale prince. Not the worst blind date Iwaizumi’s had.

“He tends to get a bit swept up in work, doesn’t he? I’m sure he’d forget to eat if no one reminded him.”

“Like you’re one to talk!” Suga retorted as he slid in behind Iwaizumi. “Sometimes I’m surprised you remember to breathe without reminders.”

“Mean Iwachan! My legs are longer than yours, you should let me sit up front,” Oikawa made a show of bumping his knees on the back of Iwaizumi’s seat as he climbed in. “And my head hits the ceiling.”

“You’re fine,” Daichi rolled his eyes as they pulled away from the curb.

Iwaizumi reclined his seat inch by inch, experimenting with how far he could go before Oikawa complained. Oikawa was engrossed in telling Suga one of his volleyball stories— a match point won with a jump serve, very impressive, Iwaizumi admitted to himself— he didn’t seem to notice Iwaizumi’s seat slowly falling into his lap. An absentminded hand found its way into Iwaizumi’s hair. He gave up the prank in favor of Oikawa’s fingers carding through his hair and volleyball stories. His eyes were heavy by the time they arrived at the botanical gardens. Oikawa’s knees hit the back of his chair in his haste to leave the car, startling him back to full consciousness.

“You okay?” Daichi smiled at him as he blinked awake. Iwaizumi steeled himself, determined to give this handsome, kind man the date he deserved, even if Iwaizumi wasn’t feeling it.

“Yeah, sorry, third shift.”

Daichi eyed him up with a knowing nod. Iwaizumi shifted uncomfortably under his gaze. “It’s alright. Just let me know if you need us to slow down.”

They stepped out to join Oikawa and Suga. Iwaizumi fought not to get caught on Oikawa’s smile, laughing at something Suga had said. He shifted his gaze to Daichi only to find him looking forward, eyes soft.

_Ah._

_  
_

_I can’t even catch_ Daichi’s _attention._

Iwaizumi found himself wishing he would’ve stayed home. Fourth wheel had been a woefully predictable position. He should have known better.

“So… how long have you been a barista?” Iwaizumi strode next to Daichi once they’d cleared the box office.

“Ah… it’s a little embarrassing. About six years now?”

“You must enjoy it, huh.”

“Yeah,” Daichi’s smile was soft, comforting, “it’s not the most glamorous job, but sometimes fulfillment comes first.”

“So I’ve heard,” Iwaizumi shot a glance at Oikawa. The man looked back at him and grinned. “You’re going to school, right?”

“I’m almost done my masters. Civil engineering.”

Iwaizumi nodded to show he was listening, but his eyes were locked on the couple in front of them. Oikawa had turned back to Suga. It stung a little. Iwaizumi felt gross.

“How do you like the hotel? Have you been there long?”

“I hate it,” Iwaizumi spat without thinking. “I’m sorry, I mean, it’s not ideal. I like my coworkers enough. It’s easy work. It’s just so boring. I’ve spent the past three years sitting at an empty desk, occasionally calling housekeeping to deliver extra blankets.”

“Oikawa says you’ve been doing a great job maintaining the flowers.”

“He’s the best part of my day.”

“Hmm?” Daichi glanced over at Iwaizumi’s scowl.

“I said, they’re the best part of my day. The flowers make me feel like I’m at least doing more than wasting hours of my lifespan staring at walls for a paycheck.”

“Mmhmm.”

“Iwachan! Look!” Oikawa had turned to run back to them, grabbing Iwaizumi by the hand. He was pulled to a floral display before he could even register the touch.

“Echinacea,” he smiled down at the purple and orange flowers.

“They have it in with the herbs because it makes a great tea. It makes the section look a lot more interesting.” He was hanging onto Iwaizumi’s arm again. He hardly noticed. It felt natural, like they’d been this way their whole lives.

“The little blossoms on the rosemary look nice, too.”

“Yeah, but bunches like that don’t work well for long-term cut flowers. As soon as part of the bunch withers it looks gross. You can’t trim off the dead bits. It would be good for a one-night center piece though. It would smell nice with dinner, too.”

Iwaizumi nodded along. “I can see it. A Christmas dinner centerpiece with a few branches of cranberry. It would help bring out the flavor in a roast chicken.”

“See!” Oikawa tugged on his arm, “you have a knack for it! Didn’t I tell you, Daichi— Daichi?”

They turned to find the room empty. Iwaizumi made to pull out his phone and text Suga, but Oikawa caught his hand in the motion.

“We’ll catch up with them later.”

“But your date—“

“It’s probably best if we don’t bore Suga with flower talk, don’t worry about it. Come on! I see Peruvian Lilies over there.”

With only a beat given in respects to their ghosting dates, the two continued on to other exhibits. Oikawa told Iwaizumi the history of how the Peruvian Lily was guarded from the public. Iwaizumi told him the story of time a drunk guest had stolen one of their rose bouquets to propose to his girlfriend. Housekeeping found it in their room the next day after he left, hand bandaged from the thorns, now-fiancé chiding and babying him in his hangover.

Oikawa sighed over the orchids in their elegant bell jars. Iwaizumi bet he could throw Oikawa far enough to land on one of the giant water lilies. The man _squealed_ when Iwaizumi picked him up.

“Put me down, you brute!”

“I can’t, you wrapped your legs around me, you koala,” he retorted by wrapping his arms across Oikawa’s back, spinning them dangerously close to the pond’s edge.

“Sir, please don’t roughhouse near the water. The koi are very fragile,” a tired looking attendant tapped Iwaizumi’s shoulder. “Might I suggest you take your boyfriend to the gazebo instead.”

“Yeah, Iwachan! Think of the poor koi!”

“I— yes, of course.” Iwaizumi let Oikawa slip down from around him. They walked in the direction the attendant pointed, trying to get out of trouble as fast as possible. The gazebo was already occupied by a few families leaning against the edge, looking out over the water. Cypress trees shaded the area, their knobby knees disrupting the water’s surface. Iwaizumi leaned over the railing to spot a turtle blinking up at him.

Oikawa sidled up next to him, hands on Iwaizumi’s arm— he couldn’t seem to keep his hands off of him— to take in the view. “This is nice.”

“Yeah. I’m having a good time.”

“Even though our dates ran off without us?”

“You’re not terrible company.”

“Excuse you, I am a delight!” Oikawa smacked his shoulder in mock horror. “We should take a selfie, this is good lighting.”

“Do we have to? I borrowed this shirt from Suga. I look dumb.”

“Shut up, you look hot. Come on,” Oikawa nudged him, holding his phone at ready. Iwaizumi sighed and smiled, letting Oikawa throw an arm over his shoulder, wrapping his own around Oikawa’s waist. As he took at least five photos in rapid succession, a message popped up along the top of his phone.

D< Hope you two are having a good date. Suga and I are catching the train home. Keys are in Iwaizumi’s pocket. Get home safe.

Iwaizumi frantically patted his jeans before Oikawa reached into his back pocket. He yelped at the sudden hand on his ass, only causing Oikawa to grin at his flustered expression, keys jingling from his fingers.

“Suga.”

“The little minx.”

They made their way through the last of the gardens. Iwaizumi suffered Oikawa bragging about his volleyball records through most of the drive home. As they pulled up in front of Iwaizumi’s apartment, he finally popped the question.

“So we’ll see you tomorrow for the community match, right?”

“Ah…” Oikawa wavered. “I’ll try. I moved most of today’s appointments to tomorrow. So between my Tuesday people and my displaced Monday people, I don’t know…”

“It’s fine! It’s fine if you can’t. Maybe next time.”

“Yeah, next time,” Oikawa parked the car, walking Iwaizumi to his door in silence.

Iwaizumi faltered at the door. He looked back at Oikawa, struck by the need to do anything to make him stay. _Invite him in._ To do what? Sit on Iwaizumi’s battered couch and watch shitty movies? He’d frown on that just as he did his car. _To make out like a couple of teenagers?_ He banished the thought. He wanted more than that— _sex?_ No. If this was going to be anything, he wanted it to be something worth the wait, not just a casual hookup.

_Grand romantic gestures._

But not tonight. He smiled, moved to… he wasn’t sure what his plan was. A handshake? Pat on the shoulder? Hug? It didn’t matter because as soon as he turned towards Oikawa the man moved into him. Insistent hands pulled Iwaizumi into slender arms.

A hug. Okay. Good.

Iwaizumi turned to rest his chin on Oikawa’s shoulder. Oikawa landed a sloppy kiss on Iwaizumi’s cheek. He followed through with the hug, burying his face in Iwaizumi’s shoulder.

 _Oh fuck,_ it dawned on him that this was supposed to be a kiss, not a hug.

And he fucked it up.

As Oikawa released him and went back to his car, Iwaizumi felt dread filling his stomach. By the time they waved good-bye, Oikawa stepping into the car and Iwaizumi into his apartment, dread had grown into self-loathing.

He lost his chance to kiss Oikawa. Now the florist had probably written him off as uninterested. He would never get another. He was a coward and a loser.

As he prepared dinner for one, it dawned on him that he could have used dinner as an excuse to extend the date. Another short coming to add to his list of regrets for the night.

Negative thoughts beat through his head as he replayed every minute of the date in a new light. God, no wonder he was alone. He sucked at this. Oikawa was way out of his league.

The storm of anxiety built through the evening until Iwaizumi was lying in bed. He couldn’t even attempt to close his eyes without regret screaming through his thoughts. The only thing to startle him out of his train of though was a single buzz from his cell phone.

O< We should hang out more often

Iwaizumi breathed a sigh of relief.

_Yeah. Yeah, we should._

—

Part 4- Daffodil _return my affection_

Oikawa didn’t show up to volleyball. Sure, he said he wouldn’t, but Iwaizumi still half expected some sort of surprise. If he really wanted to see Iwaizumi as badly as Iwaizumi wanted him to, he would have made it work.

The thought gave him an ounce of comfort. He forced himself to relax the vice grip on his heart. It was just an infatuation. Whatever. Time to let it drop. He just had to make sure to avoid Suga’s inquisitive looks like the plague.

He waited patiently through Wednesday.

Are we still on for Thursday? You were gonna teach me color schemes >

O< We’ll see. I have a lot going on tonight and I might not be able to wake up in time.

Seven hours. Iwaizumi spent seven hours in suspense. He paced the lobby with enough frenzy that Ennoshita dared suggest he go home early. Iwaizumi tried not to snap at him.

He wasn’t even sure what he was anticipating. The size of the delivery would be a good indicator of Oikawa’s mood. He braced himself for pitiful bouquets. Landing a date with Suga was part of the deal after all, and Suga had all but stood him up. Iwaizumi dared to hope that Oikawa would walk through the door with buckets bursting with flowers. He dared to hope that their date had been good enough to make up for Suga, that Iwaizumi even came close in comparison.

The six o’clock hour came and went.

Iwaizumi’s heart sunk through his feet, into the floorboards, past the basement, and came to rest six feet under. May it Rest In Peace.

He should have known better. He was no Sugawara Koushi. He wasn’t made for this. He wasn’t the kind of guy for guys like Oikawa. It was fine.

He repeated it like a mantra has he clocked out of his dead end unfulfilling job.

It’s fine.

He changed out of his uniform into the ratty t-shirt and jeans. There was no point in treating himself to new clothes. He had no reason to dress up.

It’s fine.

He climbed into his shitty little Honda that would only make a date cringe.

It’s fine.

He drove home in silence. Back to his empty apartment.

It’s fine.

He went straight to bed, completely unmotivated to do anything else. Not like any of it mattered. Not like he would amount to anything more than a romantic loser and corporate slave.

It’s fine it’s fine it’s fine.

A healthy dose of sleep medication later and he finally found reprieve. At least for a little while.

Like any good corporate slave, he arose to his alarm like clockwork. Robotically, Iwaizumi went through all the motions of getting ready for work. He was too emotionally exhausted to realize the dread that hovered at the edges of his mind.

Today was judgment day.

Iwaizumi didn’t have the energy to care.

He hated to admit how many times he checked his messages, hoping to find something from Oikawa. Even a simple “hey, sorry I missed you today” text. He felt too desperate to send the first message. Better to let the whole thing fizzle out than embarrass himself chasing someone with better things to do.

He just needs to let it go.

It’s fine.

A deep breath as he stepped out the door. His foot got caught, sending its obstacle tumbling down the stairs. He registered the sound of glass shattering before he even realizes what he kicked. Water trickled downtown the sidewalk, white daffodil stems scattered in the wet mess.

Great. One of his old lady neighbors left her flowers out again. And he’s the piece of shit who broke it. He ran back inside for a cup of water, gathering the stems and setting them back on the steps for their owner to find. He’d buy her a new vase after work.

By the time he had gathered the broken glass, Iwaizumi was well on his way to being late for work. The day was already off to a shitty start.

No one picked up the phone when he called to alert them to his tardiness. Of course he hit every red light. The best parking spot he could find was on the top floor of the garage. The elevator took an eon to arrive despite there not being another soul in sight.

Iwaizumi was about ready to scream by the time he arrived at the front doors.

Of course Oikawa wouldn’t be interested in a loser like him. God. He was a fool for thinking it, even for a second.

He was so lost in his own grump that he missed the coy smiles of the valet attendants. He barely acknowledged Matsukawa holding the door for him. He managed to walk through the lobby without looking up, to hurried by the time crunch and anxious over facing the outcomes.

It wasn’t until he had gone to the back, changed, clocked in, and returned that he noticed _the color_. The entire lobby was adorned with flowers. Vases of numerous sizes on every table. Garlands hung over every window and doorway: blues, oranges, and white to compliment the hotel furnishings.

_A grand romantic gesture._

“Matsukawa?”

“Yes, Iwaizumi?” The playful tone of his voice clued Iwaizumi as to what the answer to his next question would be.

“Is someone getting married in our lobby today?”

“I don’t know, you tell us,” with the widest grin, his co-worker motioned to the reception desk. Sitting on the counter, wrapped in cellophane, laid an arrangement of roses nested in ferns. Star-shaped white flowers stood out against the bold colors. A card was tucked into the blossoms.

_Iwaizumi Hajime_

That’s all he had bothered to write.

“Say, Hanamaki-san, would you say Iwaizumi-san is looking a little… under the weather,” Matsukawa beckoned to his fellow second-shifter.

“Why yes, Matsukawa-san. Looks like a pretty nasty bug. We should probably send him home. Ennoshita will be fine on his own tonight.”

“You heard the man,” both grinned at him as they escorted him out the door. “Go home and rest up. We don’t want to see your face around here until you’re back to your normal self.”

Iwaizumi was left in the valet loop in the dark, cellophane wrapped bouquet clutched to his chest. Matsukawa and Hanamaki stood on the opposite side of the doors, arms crossed: a sure threat if he tried to reenter. He supposed they could fix the time clock. He could change out of his uniform later. Right now he had a job to do.

He had to throw this bouquet in Oikawa’s face and demand an explanation.

The business card was still crumpled in his wallet. Luckily he hadn’t cleaned it out yet. Iwaizumi marched back to his car and drove to the florist’s shop, his head spinning with a variety of anxieties and practicing confrontations in his head.

Was he reading the message correctly? Of course he was— it had to be— it couldn’t be a more obvious message. What about Suga? There was no way Oikawa would fall for plain and boring Iwaizumi if Suga so much as existed.

Even if he did, was this something Iwaizumi wanted? _Really_ wanted? A bratty pretty boy workaholic who would always push him to pursue fulfillment?

Yes.

Definitely.

Absolutely.

He swallowed his resolve as he arrived at the shop. Only then did he realize that it was 11:45 at night. The entire street was quiet. Iwaizumi pounded on the shop door regardless.

“Dammit Oikawa! You’d better be in there!”

The shop remained stubbornly dark. Iwaizumi peered through the window. Displays of vases for all occasions lined the counters, but no movement could be seen.

It took this long for him to think about calling, but that felt like giving up. Oikawa had challenged him _come find me_ and he was determined to win. He could call Daichi or Suga, they’d probably help him. Heck, they’d probably cheer him on. But no. This was his mission to complete.

His eyes came across a familiar black Toyota parked in the alleyway. The floral truck was parked out front. Both Daichi and Oikawa’s cars were here. They _had_ to be here.

God help him if anyone was watching him. Battering a shop door and now peeking into car windows— he looked like a burglar at work. He was desperate for a hint. On the passenger seat of the truck he could spot invoices. They only listed the business address. Daichi’’s car was immaculate inside: not even a stray mail flyer on the floor.

Resources exhausted, he steeled his nerves and entered the residential entrance. He cursed himself for stalling, searching the cars for clues, when the apartment directory was such an obvious answer. He made fast work of finding the “Sawamura/Oikawa” household, scolding himself for unknowingly calling Daichi by his given name this whole time. Damn that Oikawa.

That also left him trying to remember Oikawa’s. Surely he had mentioned it once, forever ago, but Iwaizumi had long forgotten. He felt himself at a strange place with the man. They felt close, and yet he was missing so many simple details about him. Maybe that’s what Suga meant by ‘he’s easier to talk to in person.’ Oikawa was easier to talk to when you were talking about anything else: flowers, roommates, volleyball. For all of his fanfare, he spoke very little about his personal life. It had driven Suga away. It made Iwaizumi crave more.

He was determined to crack Oikawa.

He was gonna learn everything: from his favorite color to the taste of his collarbones. That is, if he’d let him.

Iwaizumi couldn’t let his confidence waiver as he pounded on the apartment door.

Silence.

He tried again: firm, well defined knocks reverberating through the complex.

Footsteps. Some rustling. Something fell over. A few minutes later, the door reluctantly opened.

“I thought you would wait until—“ Worn t-shirt, soft pajama pants, adorable bed head— but Iwaizumi couldn’t let himself get distracted.

“What does this mean,” he demanded, thrusting the bouquet into the arms of a groggy Oikawa. The man responded with a coy smile, using his full height to look down at Iwaizumi.

“Ferns are my favorite foliage. They symbolize fascination, but also security. For someone who holds your interest but never leaves you in doubt.” Oikawa took his time caressing the edge of a broad leaf. He glanced at Iwaizumi— heavy lidded and teasing— before leading him inside. Iwaizumi followed him, kicking off his shoes and shutting the door, sealing the deal. They were having this talk, no turning back.

Oikawa stopped in the common room. The only light shone in through the windows, illuminating his pale form with colorful street lights. He looked stunning, even in his rumpled sleepwear. “Red roses are as cliché as they are classic. They symbolize both love and respect. Red generally translates to ‘passion,’ but the thorns demand respect.”

Iwaizumi hazarded a step closer. And then another. He fumbled on their would-have-been kiss. He wasn’t about to miss another opportunity.

“But this one I had to order specially. Arbutus,” Oikawa’s eyes locked onto Iwaizumi’s. He felt the air leave the room as Oikawa took another breath. “ _Only you do I love_.”

Before he could register his own hesitation, Iwaizumi had his arms around Oikawa. Steady hands caressed his neck as Iwaizumi finally _finally_ pressed a kiss to Oikawa’s lips. He’d replayed his previous short coming with enough frequency that this time he was determined to get it right.

Though nothing could have prepared him for the way Oikawa sighed against him, the way he melted into Iwaizumi’s arms. Deft fingers danced across Iwaizumi’s broad back. He couldn’t find the shame to hold back a moan when Oikawa finally held him flush.

This gorgeous man. This infuriatingly perfect man. He was determined to protect him, to ruin him, in all the best ways.

Oikawa refused to take his lips from Iwaizumi’s skin as he led the man further into his apartment. Hands beckoned him to follow as he continued to plant open-mouthed kisses along Iwaizumi’s neck.

The next morning, Daichi couldn’t help but to laugh at the state of the common room. He could feel the celebratory punch as he typed out the message.

Good news, Suga >

Along with a photo of the coffee table, long abandoned in the fever of the night:

One bouquet.

**Author's Note:**

> This was definitely inspired by these works of absolute art by the ever talented Kim (Adobetrash)
> 
>  
> 
> [x](http://adobetrash.tumblr.com/post/179493915424/iwaizumi-buys-flowers-for-oikawa)  
> [x](http://adobetrash.tumblr.com/post/179595056239/needed-official-looking-art-of-iwa-giving)


End file.
